


In a New York Minute

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: The Day After Tomorrow (2004)
Genre: Brian/JD, Coming of Age, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Time changes all things, and nothing.
Kudos: 3





	In a New York Minute

_There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered._

The air still holds the crisp hint of frost. He can see it in his breath, feel it in his aching joints. Intricate patterns of ice creep like veins along the broken window panes, their corners soft, melting with the rising sun.

The world still feels frozen, locked in some parody of history, a constant reminder of what once was. It seems strange, different somehow, and yet he knows nothing is altered. The room is exactly how he left it, save for the water damage and broken glass. He's not even certain how to begin cleaning up; if he even wants to.

He can hear Brian shuffling around in the kitchen, taking stock of what can be saved, what can't. J.D.'s fairly certain most of it will end up on the curb, waiting there to be taken away by the city's cleaning crew. He doesn't know who got stuck with that job, but so long as it's not him, he's not going to question it.

Glass crunches under his boot as he paces the length of the room, taking in moist couches and water stained lamps. The floor is still damp, water pooling in the center of the room and he wonders if anyone's even thought to check into the building's stability. It seems solid enough, though, so he pushes the thought aside, crossing over to stare at the untouched pictures lining the fireplace mantel.

The glass is shattered, cracks spiraling out like spider webs and he has to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and running his fingertips along the jagged edges. The images of his family, his brother, his father, are distorted, smiling faces staring back at him and he can't help but think they look mocking.

He turns away, closing his eyes against fresh pain that he knew enough to expect. It doesn't stop him from fighting against it, pushing the emotion into the back of his head as he crosses the room and heads into the kitchen. Brian is still staring in cupboards, taking in more broken glass and burst cans. Particles of frozen food are melting; the smell enough to turn his stomach and J.D. finds himself swallowing a mouthful of bile.

"Anything?" he hears himself ask and Brian tenses at his words like he didn't hear J.D. approaching.

"Nothing," Brian replies, letting the cupboard door slam shut with a bang, the sound resonating between them.

He hadn't noticed before, but in the soft morning light Brian seems older. It has been ten years; ten long, painful years, so it shouldn't surprise him. And yet it does, so much so, J.D.'s forced to close his eyes, squeezing them shut to block out the sight.

"Are you okay?" Brian asks, and J.D. can hear him crossing the room.

He opens his eyes at the feel of Brian's hand on his shoulder, his touch soft, lingering. His eyes are tight with concern, his expression almost fearful and J.D. wants to explain. Except he doesn't know where to begin, because this isn't Brian's home, this isn't Brian's broken reminder of what once was and J.D.'s not certain Brian would understand.

"Fine," he replies instead, shuffling forward until there's nothing between them, letting his arms loop around Brian's waist to pull him close.

And this he knows, this he trusts and regardless of how the world changes, he knows Brian never will. Or maybe Brian has --maybe it's the rest of the world that's unchanged, still frozen in that moment that seems a lifetime ago. He likes that option better, so he pulls Brian a little closer, burrowing his face in Brian's neck and feeling warm for the first time since arriving back in New York.


End file.
